


Fairy Lights and Plastic Stars

by disaster_j



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski are Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, I've had this first chapter written in my drafts for months, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Smooth Dork Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Speaks Polish, Traumatized Stiles Stilinski, but i had to wait for a bloody pandemic to post it, except Claudia she's still very dead, months i tell you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disaster_j/pseuds/disaster_j
Summary: “Come on-” he says, holding his hand out “-I wanna show you something.”He’s not sure if this will work. All things considered, Stiles has no substantial reason to trust Derek, a practical stranger, with his safety. But if this feeling is really what Derek thinks it might be and Stiles really is as magic as he seems, then he’d be feeling all the same things Derek has. Something inside of him will be telling him he can trust Derek. Will be screaming at him to not let Derek go the way Derek’s Wolf is.Derek is counting on it.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, past Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski
Comments: 20
Kudos: 90





	Fairy Lights and Plastic Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This first part has been sitting in my google docs for months, basically ready for posting. I don't know why I'm finally posting this tonight but I am. 
> 
> I need everyone reading this to understand something before going in- THIS IS AN AU. The world of this fic is vastly different from the world of canon. The characters, specifically Derek and Stiles are not as they are in canon. This is intentional. They have lived very different lives than they did in canon and their characters have been accordingly adapted to fit that. Derek is not a broody jerk with communication issues because he has never been through the pain of losing a loved one, let alone his entire pack. Stiles is not as over-the-top, jumping off the walls hyperactive as in canon because he's had a highly traumatic childhood which has made him even more closed off. The characters are different from canon. DO NOT COME TO ME WHINING ABOUT THEM BEING OOC I DO NOT HAVE THE MENTAL CAPACITY TO EXPLAIN THIS AGAIN THANKS. 
> 
> You can enjoy the fic now, thanks!

Stiles wakes up with a start to a hand on his shoulder and a dusty green road sign seemingly glaring at him through the windshield. He glares right back, just because he can.

SPRING VALLEY

FIVE MILES

TAKE LEFT

The words on the sign bring back the feelings of uneasy apprehension that have been plaguing his every waking moment for the past few weeks now. 

Beside him, Kevin sighs and says-

“This is it kid; this is as far as I can take you.”

Kevin is a fifty year old high school teacher whom Stiles had met two days ago behind a diner about half a mile off the highway. Stiles had run out of the little money he had the day before and- not having eaten for close to twenty- four hours -given up on his dignity to look for scraps in the dumpster out back.

Kevin had taken one look at him and proceeded to drag him inside and force-feed him enough breakfast foods to keep him full for a week.

He hadn’t even asked Stiles for anything more than his name and what he’d like to order. Hadn’t even said anything else until Stiles was halfway through his second serving of pancakes with a side of scrambled eggs and bacon. It was only after they were both done eating and Kevin had called for the check that the man had cleared his throat and said-

“You got somewhere to go, kid?”

Now Stiles wasn’t usually one to trust people; especially not adults. But all the food he’d been stuffing his face with had likely made him go soft.

“Home.” He’d said, hoping that the older man couldn’t make out the slight tremor of uncertainty in his voice. “I’m just hitchhiking.”

“Uh huh. And where might that be?”

“Beacon Hills, California.”

That’s not technically true. Stiles doesn’t actually have a home; hasn’t had one since he was eight and came home from school to his mom’s car parked uncharacteristically in the driveway. But he’s hoping to change that now. Hoping he’ll have a home in Beacon Hills just waiting to take him in and keep him safe from the monsters he’s running from.

Kevin doesn’t question him any further, tells him instead that where he’s going is in the same county and that he can drop him off just outside the town line. Stiles takes him up on the offer simply because he can’t really afford not to.

Now that they’re finally here at this innocuous crossroads where they part ways, likely never to meet again, Stiles almost doesn’t want to go.

Kevin is kind and helpful and trustworthy. Stiles could count the number of people he’s ever met in his life that are all three on one hand and still have fingers to spare. There’s a small part of him that doesn’t want to leave the relative safety of the car. Wants to just give up on this pipe-dream of finding his home, his family.

Maybe he doesn’t even have one. Maybe he’s got this all wrong. Maybe he’s an idiot who needs to stop making rash decisions like running away to look for a stranger he may or may not share blood with across the bloody country.

But he can’t. Because the pipe-dream is really all he’s got left at this point and it’s practically the only thing that keeps him going every day.

And anyway, there is a limit to how much Kevin can do for him. It’s one thing to help a starving hitchhiker get home and another thing altogether to take in a homeless, runaway orphan with PTSD and trust issues.

Kevin has a family of his own to take care of; a wife and two daughters and a three-year-old grandson whom he’s completely enamoured with. Kevin has done more than enough, has gone above and beyond to help him get to this point and he really can’t ask anymore of him.

So when Kevin says this is it, he wants to say he changed his mind, wants to beg Kevin to just keep driving or possibly ask to go with him- something, anything not to be alone again.

But that’s not what comes out when he finally speaks.

“I know.”

He says, taking a deep breath and opening up the car door to step out; his lone backpack already clutched tightly in one hand. Kevin doesn’t let go though, sighing as he starts to speak again.

“Listen kid, you’ve got my number right? This thing goes south; the first thing I want you to do is find a phone and call me. Okay?”

Stiles tries to protest at that, tries to tell him that won’t be necessary. But then Kevin gives him his sternest ‘I’m serious’ look that reminds him too much of his mother and makes his vision go a little blurry and his throat choke up. So he doesn’t say any of the things he thinks he’s supposed to say and just nods his head instead.

“Oh and Stiles-” Kevin calls out as he’s about to push the door closed behind him. “-I really hope that this, whatever it is, it works out for you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

With that Stiles finally slams the door shut and steps back off the road. He watches as Kevin gives him a reluctant wave and then drives off. He just stands there for a moment, waits until he can no longer see the back of Kevin’s slate-grey minivan before he takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes dry with his sleeves and starts walking.

^~^

It takes him two whole hours before he reaches the Welcome to Beacon Hills sign and another thirty minutes before he makes it to what appears to be the commercial centre of the town.

The diner he finds himself in front of looks exactly like his mother told him it had been back when she’d been here last, roughly sixteen years ago. It was exactly how Stiles had imagined it to be, that night when his mother had told him the story of how she met his father.

That had been the only time she had ever talked about the man, probably thinking Stiles was too young to remember it for longer than a week. But he’d remembered anyway.

And now he was here.

The bright red _Hale’s_ sign hanging above the door intimidates him a little but the heavenly smell of cooking meat and apple pies lures him in. With a determined sigh he pushes the door open and steps inside.

^~^

Derek loves the diner, he really does. But he absolutely hates working there.

It’s one thing to voluntarily spend your summer hanging around in your family’s diner with your friends, eating delicious food for free. It’s a completely different thing to spend it being forced to work there by your mother under the domineering thumb of your older twin sister who practically lives to destroy your happiness.

Derek isn’t even allowed to work in the kitchen, making hamburgers and fries with Aunt Elena or waffles and pancakes with Uncle Cole. Instead, he’s stuck manning the counter and taking orders out front with Laura constantly annoying him by spilling stuff on the countertop _just_ so he has to wipe it down again.

And now he doesn’t even have the lunch rush to distract him from the terrible boredom. The diner is practically deserted now, not a single customer in sight. What he wouldn’t give to be home right now. But his shift didn’t end till three and unlike Laura, who had skipped out the second the last customer had paid for his food at 02:05, he would never get away with leaving early.

The front door opens with a little ring from the overhead bell, breaking Derek out of his bored brooding.

Derek looks up to see a boy around his age standing in the doorway. He glances around the empty diner nervously- as if unsure of whether he should come in or not. His chemo signals are all over the place but Derek could just about make out the suffocating stench of fear and apprehension clinging to the boy like a second skin.

Either this kid was terrified of delicious, fatty comfort foods or he was in some kind of trouble.

It takes a very long moment where Derek stares pointedly at the cash register in front of him before the boy finally decides to come in after all.

Once he’s fully inside, the door closing firmly shut behind him, Derek finally gets a good look at him. The guy definitely looks around Derek’s age, probably a year or so younger actually and seems to be only a couple inches shorter than him. He’s dressed shabbily, clothes hanging awkwardly off of his thin frame. He has on far too many layers for summertime in California too. Derek’s sweating just looking at the kid.

He’s got a worn backpack that looks stuffed to capacity and his shoes look like they’re barely holding together. He looks unbelievably tired too, gorgeous whiskey eyes dull with exhaustion as they continue to dart frantically around the room. There’s a constellation of moles dotting his pale, fragile looking skin and Derek gulps slightly as he follows their trail down his neck to where it disappears below the collar of his plaid shirt.

All in all, the kid looks decidedly homeless but all Derek can think about is how much he wants to kiss every single one of those adorable moles.

Oh Goddess he’s in so much trouble.

“Welcome to Hale’s! How can I help you?” Derek says plastering his most charming grin on as the guy comes up to the counter.

Which was totally charming and not at all scary because _he does not have a Resting Murder Face, thank you very much Laura._

“Oh, I, uh. I’m not here to order anything sorry.” The guy stutters in reply, anxiety rolling off of him in waves. “I just needed directions.”

The guy trails off awkwardly, looking down and fiddling with his fingerless gloves looking embarrassed and for a moment all Derek can think is _hands, those hands wow wow wow_ but then the boy’s words finally register and his line of thought shifts into a panicked _oh no no no this is bad, this is so bad!!!!_

_So. Fucking. Terrible._

Because this is possibly the most gorgeous guy Derek has ever laid eyes on and he might already be falling a little bit in love and he won’t even get to have a proper conversation with the guy and that’s just unfairly cruel.

No. That’s totally unacceptable. Derek is not going to take this cruel twist of fate lying down. Absolutely not. He’s going to at least get a name, maybe even try for a number if he can.

The other boy hasn’t said anything yet, still looking nervous and embarrassed so Derek jumps on the chance to fill the silence and make small talk. He’s going to get that name no matter what.

“So you’re new here, right?” Derek isn’t really much of a talker but he’s willing to talk until he drops if it means keeping his Future Husband around a little longer. “I mean, I have never seen you around and I figure I’d remember it if I’d seen those gorgeous eyes before.”

He wonders for a second if he came on too strong but the guy blushes the prettiest shade of red and he figures it’s all worth it.

“Plus,” he continues, “it’s a small town and we’ve got the best pie in all of California so pretty much everyone shows up here at least once a month.”

Derek still has his charming grin on and it seems to be working since The Love of His Life is finally starting to relax a little, the anxiety going down from suffocating waves to an annoying buzz and even though it doesn’t completely go away Derek counts this as a win.

“Yeah I uh, I’m hoping to stay for a while.” _Yes!_

“Well then-” Derek says grabbing one of the plates behind him and putting the last slice of pie from the display case on it, placing the pie down in front of the guy and handing him a fork all in a flurry of movement so he’s done before the guy can protest. “-you need to try our pie. Have I told you they’re the best in all of California?”

He ends with a little flourish and Cute Guy rewards him with the most adorable smile and o _h my gods how is this guy so fucking perfect what the hell._

“Yeah you have.” Hot Hands says. “But I uh, as I said I just need directions so-”

“Oh come on dude, everyone that comes to Beacon Hills needs to have this pie. My Uncle Cole makes ‘em fresh every morning and I swear they’re heavenly. Plus, it’s on the house. Like a Welcome to Beacon Hills present if you will. You can’t say no to free pie!”

“I don’t know.” The guy still looks hesitant and Derek still doesn’t have a name and _what if he thinks Derek’s a weirdo and leaves and_ \- but before Derek can panic anymore the guy continues. 

“Won’t you get in trouble for giving out free food?”

Goddamit Future Husband is too good for this world.

“Nah.” He says, leaning in close to Gorgeous Eyes and whispering conspiratorially. “It’s just Aunt Elena in the back, prepping for the dinner rush in a couple hours. I’ll just tell her about how this cute guy with the prettiest smile came in asking for directions and I just had to get him hooked so he’d come back again. She’s a true romantic, she’ll totally understand.”

“Is that your plan then, to get me hooked on the pie?” At that, Derek almost throws his hands up in celebration right then because Love of His Life is _flirting back hell yes!!! Take that universe!!!_

“Among other things.” Derek replies with a wink because he is _smooth_ and _not at all a dork_. At least not on the outside. Most of the time.

Future Husband is blushing again and it’s all Derek can do to not bend down just a little bit further and just kiss him right then and there. He has to remind himself that that would be going a tad bit too fast, considering he still didn’t know Gorgeous Eyes’ name and neither did Gorgeous Eyes know his.

That was definitely something he needed to remedy this instant. After all, he’d set out on this mission in the first place to get a name and he was damn well going to get it.

“Derek Hale, at your service!” He says, taking the fork and placing it with a twirl into Hot Hands’, well, _hot hands_. “Now eat the pie already.”

“I’m Stiles” Future Husband says with a giggle as he takes the fork and finally, _finally_ Derek’s mission is a booming success now that he has a name and wow is that one hell of a name.

“Stiles huh, that’s- unique.” Maybe he shouldn’t ask. The kid _is_ homeless from the looks of it. 

Maybe he’s in a gang or something and that’s his street name. _Oh Goddess is he into punks what the hell???_

“It’s a nickname actually.” Stiles, and _oh boy does the name suit the person_ , says casually as he shoves a massive piece of pie into his mouth. “My real name’s this Polish monstrosity that pretty much no one can pronounce so- good God that is a great pie dude I am so grateful you practically forced me to eat it...”

Stiles trails off as he shoves more pie into his mouth and Derek has to hold back a coo because Stiles looks like a chipmunk with his mouth so full of pie and it’s unbearably cute. Derek must have done something really fucking heroic in a past life to deserve the attention of an Actual Angel goddamn.

Like, pulling babies out of a burning orphanage, heroic.

“So,” Stiles says, pushing the last of the pie around in his plate and the anxiety is suddenly back to one hundred and Derek is panicking because _what did he do wrong now_ “I really do need directions. Could you maybe help me out with that?”

Oh. Right. Derek forgot about that.

Is it bad that he wants to say no? That he wants to tell Stiles he doesn’t know where whatever address the guy is about to hand him is just to make him stay a little longer. He just really doesn’t want the other boy to leave. He’d much rather they just spend the rest of the day talking, holding hands, getting to know each other. Basically, he wants a day-long date.

Maybe he could offer to drive Stiles there. Yeah, that could work. Only, he doesn’t have the car because Laura took it when she skipped out early because Laura is the devil and an eternal pain in his ass. Maybe he could offer to walk Stiles there. They could talk the whole way. Could be fun.

Or he could come off as a psycho stalker. Which he doesn’t want, not at all.

“Yeah sure, where do you need to go?” He knows when he’s fighting a losing battle so he’s going to let this one go. He _will_ meet Stiles again, that much he is certain of.

“The Sheriff’s Station.” Stiles whispers, voice so low Derek never would have caught it if he didn’t have super hearing.

A chill runs down Derek’s spine as it all starts to add up. The fear, anxiety, the obviously homeless appearance, the somewhat haunted look in his eyes that’s mostly hidden behind the exhaustion. The Love of Derek’s Life is definitely in trouble. His life could genuinely be in grave danger. And here Derek has been dawdling about, wasting his time with his useless flirting and goddamn pie when Stiles could be risking his life simply being out in the open…

“Oh uh, yeah, I’ll draw you a map.” Derek says, grabbing one of the large napkins and a marker. “Why the station, though?”

He probably shouldn’t ask. He’s going to scare Stiles away. But he has to know. He can’t not know; it would kill him inside if he lets Stiles go without at least trying.

“It’s nothing bad.” Stiles says with a shake of his head, there’s no change in his already strangely fast heartbeat and Derek practically sighs in relief on the outside. “I’m just looking for someone who was a deputy here a while ago and I’m hoping they’re still there.”

Okay, that makes sense.

“How long ago? What’s their name?” He asks, because he’s curious now and also because it could be someone he knows and then he could tell Stiles not to bother going all the way to the Station since he could just call Parrish and have him tell them to come over. “I know most of the deputies right now since my mom’s the Mayor, so if they’re still in the force I should know them.”

At that, Stiles turns a deep shade of red. He’s embarrassed again and Derek can’t fathom what could possibly cause that kind of reaction to such a simple question. It’s vexing how utterly confusing everything surrounding Stiles is.

“I don’t uh-” Stiles stutters “-I don’t actually know his name I just-”

Here, Stiles breaks off and just stares at Derek for a long moment. The boy’s gaze is intensely invasive; as if he’s peeking into Derek’s soul through his eyes, trying to figure out his entire life story with a single glance. Maybe he is. Maybe he does. Because when Stiles finally breaks it off an eternity later he takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself and says-

“If I show you something, do you promise not to tell anyone, and I mean _anyone_ , about it?”

Derek hesitates.

Because Aunt Elena is still in the back and had switched off her music the second he’d made the gorgeous eyes comment and he wants to help Stiles, wants to tell him he can trust him, but he also can’t tell him that his Aunt has been listening this entire time. Just as he’s thinking this, though, he hears Aunt Elena turn her music back on, followed by the sound of the back door opening and closing shut as she steps out of the building.

Goddess, Derek loves his family. Especially Aunt Elena who is currently his new favourite.

“Yes.” Derek says with as much sincerity and determination in his voice as he can manage.

Stiles huffs a deep breath as he digs out a battered wallet from his back pocket. Derek sneaks a look inside as the other boy pulls out a piece of paper to confirm his growing suspicion that Stiles doesn’t have any money on him. He’s right, as it stands; the wallet appears decidedly empty with the exception of the paper and what looks like a library card.

Stiles places the paper on the counter in front of him and Derek only just realizes it’s actually a photo; an old one from the looks of it. It’s of a young couple smiling goofily as the woman holds her left hand up to flash a modest diamond ring at the camera. The man is wearing a Beacon Hills Deputy’s uniform and looks strikingly familiar. So does the backdrop.

“This was taken here, in the corner booth by the window.” he says. It’s not a question.

“Yep.” Stiles says, glancing longingly at said booth.

“This picture’s pretty old too.” Derek observes.

“About sixteen years.” Stiles says, flipping it over to show him the inscription at the back.

It reads _Hale’s_ with a date next to it in a messy scrawl. Derek does the math in his head and determines it’s just a couple months over sixteen years old.

“I’m kinda looking for this guy.” Stiles continues, flipping the picture over again. “I was hoping he still worked at the Sheriff’s Station so I was gonna go check it out. I figured at the very least they’ll know where to find him.”

“You don’t know who he is, then?” Derek asks because he _does_ know who the man is. Even sixteen years younger the Sheriff still has the same kind eyes.

“He’s a friend of my mom’s.” Stiles replies hurriedly. “Or, well, he was. I doubt they kept in touch since I never met him and she only really mentioned him once or twice and I don’t actually know his name but-um-yeah I’m gonna stop talking now.”

“Okay, well he does look pretty familiar.” To the point Derek has already figured out exactly who it is.

The man in the picture is clearly one Noah Johnathan ‘John’ Stilinski. He’s much younger in the picture of course, somewhere in his mid to late twenties, he’d guess. Derek would have been a little over a year old at the time so he doesn’t remember how he’d looked then, but the man had been around for his entire life and Derek would recognize those kind eyes anywhere.

Sheriff Stilinski was a great man, a personal idol really. He was practically family too; having been friends with his parents since they were all his age.

So he definitely recognized the man from the picture. The problem lay in the fact that he didn’t, on the other hand, recognize the woman. She was obviously his fiancée, going by the ring and the identical grins on both their faces. But to Derek’s knowledge the Sheriff had never had a fiancé. The man had never even been in a live-in relationship for the entirety of Derek’s life!

“So..?” Stiles prompts, bringing Derek back to the present.

“Right, yeah I know him.” Derek answers, uncertainly.

“He’s still here?” At this point, Stiles’ chemo signals are all over the place. He’s excited, happy, sad and terrified all at once and the emotions are so intense that they’re making his wolf antsy.

“He’s the Sheriff.”

There’s a flash of panic in Stiles’ eyes but his expression remains calm.

“Okay. So he’s definitely gonna be at the station then?”

“Yeah. He works a lot. I barely ever see him out of his uniform. When I was a kid I used to think he never wore any normal clothes to begin with.”

“Are you- do you know him well, then?” Stiles asks voice soft and expression suddenly guarded in a way it hadn’t been before. Not even when he’d first stepped into the store had he looked so cautious- as if he was preparing himself to take a hit. Derek had to wonder exactly how Future Husband was connected to Sheriff Stilinski that made him talk about the man with such fearful hope in his eyes.

“He’s been friends with my parents since they were all in high school, so I’ve pretty much known him my entire life.” Derek answers.

“Oh. Okay.”

Derek knows he shouldn’t pry, definitely not with the way Stiles seemed to be reacting to every piece of info about the Sheriff that Derek reveals. But Derek is itching to know. He’s already dying of curiosity, wondering who the mystery fiancée in the picture is and why no one ever mentioned that the man was ever engaged to begin with. He also really wants to know what’s going on with the Love of His Life so he could help the guy.

So, Derek knows he shouldn’t ask. But he does anyway.

“Why do you want to meet him anyway?”

Stiles freezes in his spot; fork hovering over the now empty plate where he’d been using it push some crumbs around. He doesn’t look up, eyes fixed at a spot on the spotless counter-top and breathing almost meditatively- as if trying to ward off a panic attack. The waves of anxiety rolling off of him in full force yet again, is evident of as much.

“I just need to talk to him.” Stiles says after a while. “As I said, he used to be friends with my mom and there’s some questions I have that I think he can answer. Stuff I can’t exactly ask my mom.”

Stiles’ heartbeat remains the same throughout the explanation so Derek knows he isn’t lying, but something in the way the boy says it makes him believe he isn’t getting the whole truth either. Stiles is lying without actually lying in a way that hints at past experience in the practice. Lots of it.

It makes Derek want to pry even more.

“Why not?”

“Cause she’s dead.” Stiles answers and Derek would have expected anyone else to be angry or miserable but Stiles just seems resigned. “She died when I was a kid actually. So there’s way too much I don’t know about her. Hence, my quest for answers.”

Derek is a horrible person. There’s no way that Future Husband will ever give him his number now. Hell, Derek’s sure he won’t even come back here ever again. He’s gonna have to start calling the guy The One That Got Away Because I Was an Asshole.

No no no. He can’t lose The Love of His Life to his own assholeishness. He has to fix this somehow goddammit.

“Shit. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. I’m sorry, don’t hate me!” He says, holding his hands up in a ‘don’t shoot me’ way.

“It’s fine.” Stiles says; but it’s not. It’s clearly not. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Still doesn’t mean I should’ve pretty much forced you to tell me either.”

“Yeah probably not.” Stiles agrees but he looks more relaxed now, as if the panic on Derek’s face is making him relax. “But you were curious, I get that. I used to drive people insane by asking them a million questions. Seriously, I once made my teacher cry because I kept saying ‘but why’ every time she answered a question.”

Love of His Life is smiling again now and Derek is a Dead Man.

“So, how about those directions then?”

^-^

It takes Stiles about twenty minutes to get to the Sheriff’s Station from the diner. He stands out front for another hour or so- Derek’s crudely drawn map-on-a-napkin clutched tightly in his fist. 

He stands out there for an hour, sweating through his three-too-many layers of clothing and tries to convince himself to go inside.

Surprise, surprise! He fails.

On three separate occasions he digs out the picture from his wallet and goes through all the reasons he decided to do this in the first place. On all three of these occasions he manages to convince himself he had made a terrible mistake. For three separate reasons, that too.

After an hour or so of standing there and creepily staring at the station, he decides enough is enough. So he goes to the park across the street, finds a nice bench next to some bushes with a pretty good view of the station’s entrance and stares creepily from there. But much less conspicuously this time. He doesn’t want to be caught loitering around and potentially stalking men and women of the law after all.

At some point, the sun sets and night falls and it gets really dark. People come and go from the station, both in and out of uniform. Derek even makes an appearance at one point. For a moment, Stiles is terrified that the older boy would rat him out or, more likely, unknowingly blow his cover somehow.

But Derek never even goes inside.

Instead, he meets one of the deputies out front; a pretty, young thing with lean muscle and innocent looking eyes. There’s something else there though, something hiding behind that innocence- something haunted and dark. Stiles is reminded, suddenly, of the old man that had fostered him for a few weeks while he was in-between homes back when he was eleven. The old man who had pockets full of candy and a wooden left leg.

The old man with medals on his mantle and pictures of dead comrades on his fridge.

The deputy looks all too young to have eyes like the old man but Stiles doesn’t think on it too long. He’s seen enough kids in the system with eyes a lot like those to know that the ‘innocence of youth’ is not a universal concept. It’s a privilege, reserved for people with loving families and homes they know they’ll always be safe and welcomed in.

It’s for people like Derek.

People like Stiles, on the other hand, tend to lose their innocence long before they lose their youth. They lose it- like Stiles- to the greed in men that drives them to steal to live and to kill to steal. Or they lose them to the system, moving from one ‘home’ to another; being used and abused over the whims of madmen on power trips.

Sometimes, they never get to keep it long enough for it to be counted as ‘lost’ to begin with. Sometimes, they’re just born into circumstances far beyond their control, in a world too cruel to spare them even a shred of innocence.

Sometimes, Stiles falls into tangents and rambles on, unending, about anything and everything that comes to mind. He used to do it out loud, so they put him on medication. That didn’t really slow him down at all. Then Roy taped his mouth shut and locked him in the basement for over eighteen hours. So now he keeps his ramblings in his head as much as physically possible.

The point is, Derek does not indeed blow his cover, just gives the pretty man with the haunted eyes a bunch of takeout containers and then leaves.

It’s another three hours later, seconds after Stiles’ crappy Wal-Mart wristwatch announces that it is midnight, that he catches his first glimpse of the Sheriff.

The man is in his uniform, hair graying and back stiff with exhaustion that Stiles figures comes from working twelve hour shifts on the daily. The Sheriff has an imposing figure, his back to Stiles as he moves towards his cruiser, but Stiles can see himself trusting the man. Can see himself feeling safe and protected and loved. Can see himself finally having a family again.

He can also, on the other hand, see the man sending him right back to where he’d run here from. And then where would he be? Probably six feet under, that’s where. That or in jail.

Neither of those are places he’d rather be.

It’s that fear that stops him from going to talk to the man. The fear that he’ll be rejected by the man he believes is his father. The thought that the one person who could save him now could turn his back on him terrifies Stiles.

So he just sits there and waits for the Sheriff’s cruiser to turn around the corner before getting up to leave.

It’s past midnight and he needs to find somewhere to sleep.

He gets as far as the next corner before a hand grabs his shoulder from behind and Stiles panics and kicks out towards the possible attacker before he can even stop to think to look back and see who said attacker even is.

Derek curses lowly as one of Stiles’ flailing limbs collides with his gut and he lets go of the younger boy’s shoulder; stepping away so as not to get hit again.

“Hey, hey! It’s just me!” Derek says with his hands up in the air. “The perfectly harmless guy who gave you free pie?”

“Derek? Shit, sorry!” Stiles cries, flushing in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I thought you were a mugger or something. Sorry! Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s okay, don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have startled you like that.

“Still-” Stiles insists “-I am so sorry!” 

“Stiles, it’s okay. I’m fine.” 

“Okay.” Stiles doesn’t look convinced. He looks immeasurably guilty but Derek’s far more focused on the way his eyes are glowing just slightly. It’s faint, fading quickly, but he’s sure it’s there. He knows the mark of magic when he sees it.

“Anyway.” Stiles says, averting his eyes, almost like an afterthought “What are you even doing here?”

Well. Derek’s not sure how to answer this. Okay, no, he does know how. It’s just. Gonna make him sound like a stalker. He really doesn’t want Stiles to think he’s a stalker. But then, maybe, technically, he is? Or maybe not? It’s not like he’s been following Stiles around everywhere or anything. But then on the other hand he’s also been referring to the boy as his Future Husband in his head, after meeting him for the first time mere hours ago, and he’s gotta admit that’s pretty stalker-like behaviour. So it’s probably debatable. Jury’s still out. 

“Derek?” Stiles asks, breaking him out of his thoughts. His pretty face is all curled up in a confused frown and it’s only upping his cute factor. Derek is having heart palpitations all of a sudden. 

“Right sorry.” he says quickly “I just- I saw you on the bench earlier and it was driving me insane thinking about you out here all night and I just had to come and check if you were still here. Which you are. I’m sorry if that sounds creepy or stalkerish but I swear I was just worried!”

He raises his arms up in an ‘I’m innocent’ gesture, hoping beyond hope that Stiles believes him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever recover if the Love of His Life rejects him for being a total creep before they can even get to know each other. Although, to be fair, he doesn’t think he’ll recover from being rejected by Literal Angel Stiles No Last Name under any kind of circumstances. He might as well prepare himself for the hermit life now.

“Right.” Stiles says. He still looks uncertain but isn’t running away or telling Derek to never come near him again so he takes it as tentative permission to keep talking.

“So… you didn’t talk to the Sheriff then?” And maybe that was the wrong thing to say, considering the way Stiles’ face darkens. Goddess! Why does he keep messing up?

“No, I- I couldn’t.” Stiles’ voice shakes as he says it, like his throat is closing up and Derek can spot tears starting to flood his eyes and this is not good so not good he needs to do something he needs to help he needs to-

“Where are you staying?”

The words rush out of his mouth in a panic before he can stop himself. Why his brain though this was the right diversion topic he doesn’t know. Maybe he really does need a brain transplant like Laura used to say when they were kids. Goddess what is wrong with him is he seriously agreeing with something Laura said what the hell?

“I don’t know.” The admission is quiet, so quiet that Derek’s werewolf senses almost don’t pick up on it.

That’s another thing about Stiles that Derek has noticed- he’s quiet on the outside in the strangest way. It almost seems forced. Unnatural. As if he consciously makes efforts to make himself as unseen and unheard as possible. Nothing about this thought sits well with the teen wolf.

“Okay.” Derek says slowly, “Can I help?”

“I don’t know Derek.” And Stiles sounds so tired and defeated as he says it that it makes his own chest hurt. “I don’t think anyone can really help me right now.”

“Can I try?” He wants to. He really, truly does. Stiles means something to him, something he can’t explain or even understand, but he knows it instinctively. Every single cell in his body is telling him this boy is meant to be his whole world someday. He will damn well treat him like it.

“Come on-” he says, holding his hand out “-I wanna show you something.”

He’s not sure if this will work. All things considered, Stiles has no substantial reason to trust Derek, a practical stranger, with his safety. But if this feeling is really what Derek thinks it might be and Stiles really is as magic as he seems, then he’d be feeling all the same things Derek has. Something inside of him will be telling him he can trust Derek. Will be screaming at him to not let Derek go the way Derek’s Wolf is. 

Derek is counting on it.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap on chapter one! I hope you guys liked it so far, please, please, please let me know in the comments!! I'm always looking for feedback and I will love you forever if you left some! Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> I'll try not to take too long to update but I can't make any promises. I'm a post-grad, my thesis is due in September, and this pandemic has made it extremely hard for me to work on my assignments because we no longer have access to the physical libraries and I'm pretty much constantly exhausted. So yeah, it's kinda hell. I hope you're all faring better with the lock-down/quarantine. 
> 
> If any of you want to come yell at me about this fic or anything else Sterek related (or any other fandom I'm in), you can find me on [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/disaster-j)


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